


Newfangled Remedies and and Old Fashioned Family

by TsaritsaElena



Series: Superfamily Prompts [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsaritsaElena/pseuds/TsaritsaElena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt: <em>Steve has to deal with Peter having the flu for the first time while Tony is away. It brings back bad memories for him; thankfully Tony calls and helps him through the stress of it.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Newfangled Remedies and and Old Fashioned Family

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr, cleaned up and posted here.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own any of these characters or copyrighted material, and I’m certainly not making any money or other material profit off of this fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

102.6°F

Steve stared at the thermometer, willing it to read out another number. This was bad. Peter’s fever had gone up since Steve last took his temperature the day before and Steve didn’t know what to do. Yesterday it was the aches and pains and a low grade fever, this morning it was the nausea, and now the high fever. Steve had taken his son to the doctor earlier in the day, who confirmed a diagnosis of influenza with a mild disinterest, wrote Peter a prescription for Tamiflu, and sent Steve and his son on their way, which did nothing to alleviate any of Peter’s symptoms or Steve’s distress.

He heard a retching noise coming from Peter’s room, followed by a pitiful moan. Steve was at his ten year old son’s side before Peter could even call out for him.

“Hey, it’s okay buddy,” Steve said as he handed Peter the glass of water by his bedside. “Think you can make it to the bathroom to brush your teeth, or do you want me to help you?”

“No, I can do it,” Peter insisted, handing back the glass of water to Steve. His voice wobbled and he looked so feeble that Steve tried to help him up anyway. Peter waved him away, insisting that he could do it on his own. Steve stared helplessly as his son, hunched over in pain, hobbled in the direction of the bathroom. While Peter was out of his room, Steve tied up the vomit-filled trash bag next to his bed and re-lined the bucket with a new one. When Peter returned to bed, Steve made him drink Pedialyte and fed him what little chicken broth with rice Peter could stomach.

Steve hated seeing Peter this sick. He excelled at a lot of things as a dad—playing sports with Peter, reading books with him, helping out with homework, making up lunchboxes every day—but Steve was no good at this. Peter had the flu and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it except worry and wait for his son to get better. It didn’t help that Tony was in California on business, leaving Steve plenty of time to brood and worry over his son.

Distantly, Steve heard his phone ring in the other room and he jogged over to answer it.

“Tony! Thank goodness you called. Peter’stemperaturewentupandhe’sstillthrowingupandthedoctorsaidhehastheflu!” he let out in a rush.

“Whoa, slow down there, babe. Peter has the flu?”

“He said he felt achy yesterday and he threw up this morning before breakfast. The doc said it was influenza. Now Peter’s temperature is up to 102.6. I gave him Tamiflu this morning and I’ve been feeding him chicken broth with rice. I don’t know what to do,” Steve ran his fingers through his hair nervously and his voiced was high-pitched.

“It sounds like you’re doing everything you can.”

“I should take him to the hospital. What if something worse happens to him?”

“Steve, honey, calm down. You said you gave him Tamiflu, right? It takes a couple of days to work. If Peter doesn’t get better in another day or two, _then_ call the doctor back. And in the meantime, try to stay calm. You sound nervous.”

“Our kid is sick, Tony! Of course I’m nervous!” Steve snapped at his husband. "Sorry," he added softly.

“Sounds like more than your garden variety kind of nerves. ...Steve? It sounds like you’re hyperventilating. What’s going on?”

There was silence on the line save for a couple deep breaths while Steve calmed himself down enough to answer, “What if something happens Peter?” He sounded small, even to his own ears. “When I was ten... I caught the flu real bad. It aggravated my asthma. I could hardly breathe so I had to be hospitalized. I either slept or was so out of it I barely remember anything but the pain and the effort it took to breathe. The only other thing I remember is hearin’ the doctor tell my ma he wasn’t sure I would make it through the night, and my ma cryin’ over me. What if that happens to him?” Steve closed his eyes and swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I—I couldn’t bear it if something happened to Peter.”

It was an old fear of Steve’s but one that he couldn’t shake this time. Captain America could punch Hitler and take down Nazis but he was utterly powerless against fighting the flu for his son.

“Steve, honey,” Tony said. “Remember all those tests we had done when he was born, and again right before he started school? He doesn’t have any of the same health problems as you, not even the asthma. The doctor said his immune system was in perfect condition. You have to remember, Peter’s situation is very different from yours; there’s nothing to worry about. You gave him Tamiflu—something you never had—and you’re alleviating his symptoms. All you can do now is be there for him. In a week, Peter will be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You have to trust me on this one.” Steve was silent, trying to process all of that, so Tony added, “Would it help if I talked to you again in a few hours?”

“Yeah. It would. _Please_ ,” Steve said quietly.

“You got it. Look, I gotta go. Try not to worry so much?”

“I’ll try.”

No sooner did they end the call than the sound of a moaning Peter reached Steve’s ears. He rushed back to Peter’s room where his son looked close to tears.

“Everything hurts, Papa,” Peter moaned. “I don’t wanna be sick.”

It broke Steve’s heart to see Peter like this, but he tried his hardest to hold on to Tony’s reassurances. He needed to put away his own worries and help Peter through this.

Peter made another noise of distress and immediately Steve tried to soothe him, rubbing circles on his back. “I know it hurts now, but you’re gonna be okay,” Steve said in an attempt to reassure his son. “Why don’t you lie down and try to go to sleep?”

“’m not sleepy and everything hurts!”

“O-okay. How about you lie down and just relax? I’ll read you a story.”

“The Hobbit?” Peter looked hopeful.

“The Hobbit,” Steve nodded. He bent down to pull the well-loved copy out from the bottom drawer of Peter’s nightstand and opened it to the last place they’d left off. As he read aloud the tale of Bilbo and Gandalf and the dragon named Smaug, Peter closed his eyes and his breathing leveled off. Eventually Peter fell asleep and Steve tiptoed out of his room.

Steve did his best to distract himself from worrying about Peter, and the prospect of talking to Tony about it soon helped ease his worry. That is, until a few hours went by and he still hadn’t gotten a call. Just as he was about to pick up and dial, he heard footsteps out in the hallway. Automatically on high alert, he crept out to see who it was. It was Iron Man, in full suit, standing in the front hallway.

“Tony? But you’re supposed to be in California,” Steve said, puzzled.

The faceplate came up to reveal his husband beneath the mask. “Nah,” Tony waved a hand. “I finished the bulk of it already and I made arrangements for Pepper to wrap up the loose ends. Besides, did you really think I was going to make you deal with this by yourself after our conversation? Peter’s going to get better but until he does, we’re going to take care of him together. ”

Steve smiled. Tony was there for Steve, and they were there for Peter. He was part of a family and they were in this together.

_Fin._


End file.
